Secrets for the Sleeping
by AppleBagel
Summary: He thought he was sleeping. So he snuggled in close, and spilled his heart out to his supposedly slumbering lover. Every thought from the day that lingered was confessed, and his secrets tumbled from his lips into the Prussian's curious ears. Maybe next time, he should wait a little longer after asking if he was sleep. (2p!Prux2p!Can, only betaread by me, fluffy, and kinda sappy)


"Akbar, are you awake?"

It was the quietest he'd ever heard Matt speak. His voice was low, a tad rough, and so slight a whisper that it almost surprised Akbar. He was used to his boyfriend's voice as a boom through the house, a record with no volume control.

As far as the question went, he'd only just been roused out of his barely-asleep state by Matt's voice. He couldn't even open his mouth to speak before Matt continued. He had his back to the blond and Matt couldn't see his open eyes.

". . . I guess I'm glad you're not. I wanna talk to you, but you know how great I am at communication. I'd probably just fuck it up and yell nonsense at you for a couple hours instead of saying anything useful."

Akbar didn't move or speak. He was gradually growing more awake and aware, quickly focusing on Matt to listen. He heard the crinkling sound of moving sheets and felt Matt curl up around him, spooning him as gently as the ungraceful blond could manage.

"Fuck, I just wish I could be the perfect boyfriend sometimes. Just for you. So I could see you smile more. I love it when you smile. I'm kind of shit at making you smile though, aren't I?" He was murmuring his confessions into Akbar's hair, believing his resting lover couldn't hear him. "I want to be better for you, you know?"

Akbar felt as though he should do something to assure Matt that he was fine the way he was, but he wanted to hear more. So he stayed quiet, even though he knew that Matt made him smile more than anyone else and, therefore, Matt's words were untrue.

". . . I love you. I really do love you. I can only ever manage to say it when you're passed out, but I love you. You must think I'm a real asshole for never saying I love you back when you tell me that, but I want to. It's hard for me, knowing that you'll hear me say it, and maybe you won't believe me, or maybe you'll laugh at me because I look like a dumbass when I finally say it, or maybe I'm just afraid of you leaving like everyone else and I don't want to get attached while you're still around. But I love you. And- And I want you to know that I love you, but I just can't tell you! Not while you're conscious, at least, but telling you when you can't hear is about as good as never telling you at all. I can turn invisible as long as you're not looking at me, and all that. The closest thing I do to telling you I love you is calling you gay and then kissing you. Giving you pancakes isn't too bad either, since you love that shit more than you probably love me, but it's not same, you know?"

Akbar shifted the slightest bit in Matt's arms. Not enough to alert the blond to the fact that he was indeed awake, and indeed hearing everything he was saying, but he moved enough to press closer to Matt's chest. He knew Matt was shy about affection, he knew Matt didn't have the confidence to profess his love, but he never suspected that it bothered Matt as much as it did. He almost couldn't believe that he hadn't known that Matt spent his nights stressing over his inability to say those three small words. Akbar had simply assumed that it was how things were between them, and it didn't bother him, so he'd never thought that it would bother Matt either. But Matt was strange; he'd learned that much by now.

"I don't know why I'm so worried tonight. Maybe because of what happened today? Sure, I've fucked you senseless plenty of times, but there was something about just holding you while we were both ass-naked, not even doing anything arousing, but just . . . Holding you? And kissing you, but not in the hot way. In the slow, sensual way that you see in all those shitty romance movies when the fireworks start shooting in the sky and their eyes start fucking sparkling and other shit. There was something about that that made me feel like a shitty romance movie – even with all your stupid hair falling in my face and having to pull your face down from fucking Valhalla just so I can reach your lips – and it made me want to tell you how much I love you. But did I fucking do it? Nah. Too much of a pussy. I'm amazed you're still even bothering with a pathetic ass like me."

 _It's because I love you, Matt._ He still didn't speak, but he certainly thought his responses with much certainty. He loved Matt, for everything the blond had ever done for him, and everything he would do. Things he couldn't even begin to list, because he would trail on for ages, listing every little detail of all the things Matt did to make Akbar love him in foolish amounts. It was the little things he noticed, after all.

"Every time I see another couple walking around, or I see a movie or read a book or whatever, it always makes me wonder if I'm really cut out to be someone's boyfriend. They all have such set standards. I don't fucking . . . I don't take you on dates or anything. I just cook for you and sometimes we bone. Occasionally I get you flowers. I don't know; it just feels like I'm not doing everything I'm supposed to do? God, what are the requirements for having a relationship? No one ever taught me how to do this crap! Want me to light a guy on fire for you? Pfft, no troubles. Want me to hold your hand? Damn, you're testing the boundaries here. Try to stay within my skill set next time, asshole. . . . I wish being a lumberjack was romantic. I could kick ass at that. Hey, babe, you want some romance? Let me chop down this fuckin' tree and we'll get a real party started."

For a moment, there was silence, and Akbar wondered if Matt was done. But soon, he piped back up, and Akbar felt his lover nuzzle into the crook of his shoulder.

"I don't even know how I'm gonna manage next week, Akbar. I was thinking, I could do something nice, and I'd drive you out to the lake nearby and bring food so we could have a picnic and I could throw you into the lake or some shit. I don't even know. But you like cloud-watching, don't you? I mean, you're always up in the trees or lying on the roof. I guess we could do that. That wouldn't be so bad. And I could touch your butt or something while we're watching clouds to pass the time. But, like. . . It's gonna be a big deal! Not the butt-touching; I touch your butt all the time. It's not gonna be some legendary, butt-touching milestone. The ultimate butt-touch. Anyway, whatever, I mean, that date is gonna end up a big deal. Cause I was thinking, at the end of the day, I'd be romantic as balls and propose when the sun sets."

Akbar's eyes flashed open. Matt had his arms wrapped around his waist and face buried in his shoulder, so he was sure that Matt had felt his the slight sharpness of his breath in that moment. But Matt, thankfully, remained oblivious. Akbar was. . . Surprised. He'd proposed to Matt a billion times but they'd always been written off as silly, delicious-food-induced bursts of affection. He'd never really minded, but now _Matt_ was the one proposing? Huh.

"How should I pop the question? It's kind of a big deal, but you always make it sound so simple, like you're asking if the sky is still blue. I want you to say yes, but what if I fuck it up so bad that you just leave? I don't even know how I'm gonna start. Maybe just . . . nonchalantly slide the ring box over to you? That kinda makes it sound like I'm dealing you drugs, though. That's weird. Should I kiss you and then hand you the ring? Or should I just kiss you after? Christ on a bike, I have no idea what I'm doing."

Matt was tightening his hold around Akbar. Intentionally or not, the Prussian had no idea. He could feel Matt's cheek against his neck and he felt the burning blush on the blond's cheeks. Just the thought of proposing brought a fire to his face, enough to make him curl into Akbar in embarrassment.

"I'm gonna fuck up so bad; I can feel it. I found the perfect ring and everything, but I'm gonna mess up somehow." Matt sighed, and Akbar could feel his warm breath ghosting over his cool skin. "I think you'll like the ring, at least. It's platinum, and pretty simple, with a blue opal in the middle. I thought it suited you, you know? Hell's bells, Akbar, I wish this was easier.

I know I'm gonna take you to the lake, I know I'm gonna bring food and some drinks, I know I'm probably gonna be sappy and kiss you a lot, and I know we'll probably do nothing more exciting than watching the clouds drift by, and I know I'm gonna propose. But I don't know _how_ I'm going to ask you to go to the lake with me – Hell, knowing us I'll end up declaring that we're going to the motherfucking lake for a good motherfucking time and you'll just shrug and agree and that'll be that – and I _definitely_ don't know how I'm going to propose. But I'm gonna do it; just you fuckin' watch me. Even if I suck, no one will be able to say I didn't do it."

For a long moment, there was silence.

But soon, the silence was broken by a different voice than Matt's.

"That will be fun."

A loud shriek pierced the room, accompanied by a rough shove from Matt to push himself away from Akbar. Matt scrambled away, his face a brighter shade of red than his shirt. Akbar remained still, turning over to stare at Matt.

"You _asshole_! How- How much of that did you hear!?" Matt gulped, praying it had been the bare minimum.

Akbar, in turn, shrugged. "All of it, pretty much."

Matt tried to muffle another scream. "For fuck's sake, Akbar! I only said all that stuff aloud because I thought you couldn't hear me!" He buried his face in his hands, shaking his head back and forth. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. . . Every surprise I had planned, fucking _everything!_ "

Akbar blinked, tilting his head at Matt and scooting closer to him. "It's alright, Matt; I'll still say yes."

Matt peeked out from behind his hands to stare at his boyfriend with a slight glare. "What do you mean?"

"I'll go out to the lake with you. And I'll accept your marriage proposal," Akbar assured, staring right back at Matt with a neutral expression.

"No," Matt spat, finally putting his hands back down and away from his burning face. "The surprise is ruined. It won't be the same so I'm just not gonna do it."

". . . Okay." Akbar turned over, rolling onto his side to go back to sleep.

". . . Okay!? What do you mean okay!?" Matt scoffed, highly offended at the response.

"We'll get married some other time, then. For now, you should go back to cuddling me like before. You're quite warm."

Matt huffed, but crawled back over to where Akbar lay and coiled his arms around the other's thin waist. "You're an asshole. A complete fuck-head. You should have told me you were awake."

"You didn't give me enough time to," Akbar shrugged, leaning into Matt's hold and contently stealing his warmth.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He grumbled, pulling Akbar close to his chest.

"You asked if I was awake, which woke me up, and then continued to talk before I could respond."

". . . Oh. Well, shit."

"Mm."

"Hmph. Turn around."

Akbar quirked his head to the side, but followed Matt's request and turned around to face him. Before he could ask why, Matt was pressing their lips together. A long, sound kiss, one he was happy to return. Akbar gently rested a hand on Matt's cheek, moving his lips in sync to Matt's as they kissed. Gingerly, they broke apart, engaging in the most romantic staring contest to date.

"Akbar, I'm gonna marry the shit out of you one day."

"If you propose next week, I'll pretend I didn't know."

"Thanks, fuck-face. Now go to sleep."

 **A/N: ? im not dead**

 **All I can write about is matt and his eternal insecurities and undying love for his weird bf**

 **It's 5:27 a.m. I don't even know what's going on anymore**


End file.
